I love these mountains. They were already old when the Rockies and the Alps were born. I'm conscious of that as I walk. I can feel the eons under my feet. They're beautiful, but also feel haunted. Like they demand your respect as you enter. It's easy for me to understand why Washington Irving was so mesmerized by these mountains when he wrote Rip Van Winkle.
I wouldn’t say haunted as much as magical. Much like being in natures cathedral with all the eons of history underfoot. Thanks for sharing the pictures; unfortunately I had too many house issues to get out myself.
